


Finding Home

by heeroluva



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-08 09:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12251298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: Azeroth is lost, but Khadgar has one last trick up his sleeves.





	Finding Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aestivali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestivali/gifts).



Khadgar was tired beyond what he had words for. A bone-deep exhaustion had made itself at home in his bones many months before and thanks to the endless list of things that needed to be done, it showed no interest in leaving anytime soon. Still he soldiered on, having no choice. It pained him to admit that Azeroth, the home he so loved, the home that he had fought so long and hard for, had sacrificed and given so much for, was doomed. Despite their best efforts, despite their strength, one by one their forces had fallen, had been cut down or infiltrated and converted by the Legion until their numbers dwindled from thousands to hundreds, to only dozen.

There may be no hope left for Azeroth, but Khadgar wasn’t just ready to give up yet. It was foolish and went against everything he had ever been taught, but he had no other choice. For weeks he’d been scavenging the pieces he needed for this spell, hording the few mana potions that he found that they could spare.

When the time finally came, when he gathered those who remained, there was less than five dozen, each of the major races of the Alliance and Horde represented as such divisions had become pointless. They all looked as tired and worn as Khadgar, all of them so exhausted and heartsore from what they’d seen that none of them even questioned him. Khadgar could be leading them to their deaths and none of them cared to ask, placing the last of their hope on his shoulders.

The ritual itself was simple, but the mana required was immense. Each time his well fell empty, Khadgar would drink a potion until finally there was none left, and Khadgar could do nothing but hold the spell together through sheer force of will as his very life force was drained to fuel the spell.

The last thing Khadgar saw before his world went black was the glow of power that enrobed each of his people. Two flickered and disappeared, and Khadgar knew no more.

 

Awaking to a splitting headache was not Khadgar’s favorite way to wake, but given that he had expected to not wake up at all again, it was a small price to pay.

Slowly opening his eyes, Khadgar winced at the brightness of the mage light that filled the room. Glancing to the side, he was greeted by the sight of a dark haired man sitting at a desk. Attempting to speak, Khadgar found his throat painfully dry, and all that it managed was a croak.

The man jumped, practically falling out of his chair in his haste to spin around. “Oh, you’re awake!”

So it would seem, Khadgar mused as he stared into the face of his younger counterpart. Had he truly ever been so young? “Water please,” Khadgar finally managed.

“Oh, yes, of course,” his younger self said before turning and grabbing a mug.

When the mug reached his lips, Khadgar drank the blessedly cool liquid eagerly, not remembering the last time he’d tasted clean water.

“I hadn’t believed it true what they said. That you were me. Or that I was you.” The younger Khadgar paused and ran his fingers through his hair, and old nervous habit. “This could get quite confusing.”

“My people? They are safe?”

“Yes, they are enjoying the hospitality of Regent Lothar and Queen Taria.”

“Regent? King Llane is dead and his wife survived?” Khadgar’s brain whorled as he tried to process this information, that this truly was a different universe, rather than just an earlier version of his own. Perhaps things were different enough that the future that he knew would not come to pass.

“Yes, Lothar rules with his sister’s blessing until the time comes for Varian to ascend—”

Exhaustion dragged Khadgar back into its dark depths.

 

When Khadgar awoke again, the room was bright with sun. When a cup was again pressed to his lips, he greedily drank the cool water, his throat still painfully parched.

“Easy,” his younger self murmured when Khadgar drank too fast and choked, pulling the cup away and helping him sit up as he coughed.

Khadgar rested his head against his younger self’s shoulder, not too proud to take a moment’s comfort. There was nothing shameful in showing weakness to yourself after all, right?

The moment dragged on, the silence thick. It should have been awkward, but instead it just felt right. When his younger self moved to sit on the edge of the bed, Khadgar pressed himself more fully against him and in return his younger self wrapped his arms around him.

“I didn’t believe it when they told me,” his younger self mused. “Not until I saw your eyes, my eyes. The stories your people told are too wild to be believed, yet, too detailed to be fiction. I can’t help but wonder where the changes began. Maybe it’s because I renounced my vows and never became Medivh’s apprentice.”

Food was brought to break their fast, and after they ate they spent the rest of the day going over the many differences in their timelines.

When evening fell again, Khadgar groaned as he rose, his body unhappy with the amount of time it had spent in bed. He might not be a spry chicken anymore, but neither was he used to such inactivity.

“Help an old man wash his back?” Khadgar asked.

His younger self didn’t looked away as Khadgar stripped and gave him a curious once over before closing the distance between them and taking the offered cloth.

“It’s strange to see what I’ll likely look like someday,” his younger self mused as he carefully dragged the cloth over the wide expanse of Khadgar’s back. “What’s this from?” he asked, pausing over a low scar low on Khadgar’s back.

“Which?” Khadgar asked, reaching around to feel. “Oh, that. A nearly escaped assassination attempt. I don’t even remember which group it was anymore.” When the cloth fell away and his younger self’s hands began to massage his knotted shoulders, Khadgar groaned. “Don’t stop.”

“You made a lot of enemies,” his younger self said.

“As will you one day, I think. It tends to be the fate of any who rise to a position of power. There will always be those who don’t like something you do.”

When his younger self worked his thumbs into a particularly tight knot, Khadgar groaned and dropped his head forward. “Where did you learn this?”

“I had to get by somehow after leaving the Kirin Tor. Magic only gets you so far, I learned. I picked up what I could here and there.”

“Don’t stop,” Khadgar begged again when his younger self’s hands dropped away.

“I think I have something that you might enjoy better.”

Khadgar’s eyes went wide when his counterpart dropped to his knees before him, hand wrapping around his limp cock. His eyes went even wider still when his younger self gave him a mischievous grin, licks down his lips and then sucks him down to the balls, throat fluttering around the head of his now slowly hardening cock. Despite the nearly painful pleasure, Khadgar was still an old man, and these things didn’t happen as fast as they used to.

Khadgar moaned long and low, trembling fingers knotting in dark hair as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest as his younger self seemed content to nurse on him until he was fully hard. In the midst of war, and given the ill effects of his curse, it had been a long time since Khadgar had even felt the desire for his own hand, let alone laid with another.

Yet somehow, as his younger self gave him what was surely the best blowjob of his life, Khadgar hadn’t felt this alive in what seemed like forever. “Yes, just like that,” Khadgar groaned when his younger self found a particularly sensitive spot. Khadgar felt the grin against his flesh. Despite using his knowledge of Khadgar’s body to wring unbelievable pleasure out of him, Khadgar’s orgasm was not quick in coming. By the time he emptied himself down his younger self’s throat, Khadgar knew his jaw had to be hurting, but he never stopped or complained.

Groaning as he sank to his knees, his knees cracking in protest, Khadgar kissed his swollen lips, enjoying the taste of himself on those lips.

Never one to be selfish, Khadgar fisted the hard cock between them; used everything he knew worked on himself to bring the younger man to a powerful orgasm that left him shuddering as he fell forward against Khadgar.

When he looked up at Khadgar again, his smile was sly, and Khadgar had never felt more at home.


End file.
